


11:10PM THE DAY OF THE CUP

by ashes0909



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Background Relationships, Canon Compliant, Comfort/Angst, M/M, POV Kent Parson, Past Kent Parson/Jack Zimmermann, Post-3.26, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 01:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13330731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909
Summary: Carl’s laugh was rough and ugly, and Kent could still hear it as he rushed from the bar.





	11:10PM THE DAY OF THE CUP

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maeve_of_Winter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeve_of_Winter/gifts).



> Thank you ferret for betaing and sirsapling for getting me into this comic!

11:10PM THE DAY OF THE CUP

 

Carl’s laugh was rough and ugly, and Kent could still hear it as he rushed from the bar. _Fuck,_ Jack had lifted the trophy like a pro, skating across the ice like every care he kept stacked on his shoulders had finally flown away.

And then he'd had a dark, jagged flicker of a memory, that really had horrible fucking timing, of Jack laying on the floor, jaw slack, eyes blank and too many pills falling from his hand. But time, and life, had passed, and on that ice after the Falcons had won, all the pain and anxiety and worry had fallen away. He looked free. Free in a way Jack had never been before, at least never with him.

Then the camera panned away, and Kent was left to watch the rest of the Falcons celebrate their win.

These brief, fleeting newscast segments of Jack, all they did was remind him of how much they’d shared and how far apart they’d grown.

There were some things that never changed, though - like the soft turn of Jack’s mouth right before he kissed someone. And, apparently, his love for slender blondes definitely hadn't changed.

_Fuck_. The brick wall of the alley tugged at his shirt as he slid to the ground, and it smelled like piss and stale beer, and why did that Eric Bittle have to be so damn earnest? You couldn’t hate someone that earnest, it was completely impossible.

Kent had been through enough with Jack, that all Kent could possibly want for him was happiness--and that there on Scraps’ phone  was Eric Bittle making Jack Zimmermann the happiest he’d ever seen him. On national television, too --The fool.

But how could Kent blame him when he had been a Champion too once, he knew how it felt to be the king of the world, and to yearn to share that with someone else?

The back door slammed open, and he knew it was Swoops by the quick footsteps across the alley and the fact that no one else would follow him back here. Carl was an asshole and Scraps had been taking tequila shots with the rest of the guys when he left, but Swoops had had his eye on him like he always did.

“You okay back here?”

Sometime between drinks after NBA games and winning the fucking _Stanley Cup_ , Kent had told Swoops enough to explain why he was feeling like shit right now. And enough had passed between the two of them that Kent knew seeing Jack and Eric Bittle kissing on national television had to be messing with Swoops too.

Swoops, of course, hid it all behind his horrific humor as he came to stand in front of Kent and asked, “Are you more pissed that they looked so sweet you could gag on it, or because now we really can’t win the Stanley Cup for dramatic outtings against them?”

Kent snorted. “Like you’d kiss me center ice.” He looked up at Swoops, and the grin that spread across Kent’s face seemed to surprise them both, but he couldn’t pass up a chance to chirp Swoops, not about this, and he already felt lighter as he stood and advanced on Swoops. “You can only kiss me in the safety of hotel rooms, and that’s after checking the peephole. And closing the curtains! Hell, we went to that game together and, do you remember what you did when they shined the kiss cam on us? What? What did you do? You remember, tell me.”

He could tell Swoops face was beet red even under the flickering light of the street lamp. “I stood up to get us beers,” he grumbled.

“Exactly.” His hands wrapped around Swoop’s belt loops, pulling them together. “A big, shiny screen full of your crotch. You couldn’t even pretend kiss me, to ham it up for the camera. And you think you could--”

“Okay, alright.” Swoops pulled at the collar of Kent's shirt, shaking him lightly against the brick wall. “You don’t have to be an asshole. I’m just trying to make you feel better about the whole thing.”

Swoops head bowed, embarrassed, and Kent knocked his chin up with his knuckle. “Hey. You did. Chirping you _definitely_ made me feel better.”

Swoops punched his shoulder lightly then let his forehead fall against Kent’s chest. “This is a good thing,” Swoops whispered, like he was trying to convince himself as much as Kent. “It’s going to suck for them. It’s going to be really fucking hard, but then, after, with time and shit. It’s going to be better for everyone.”

His hands came up to wrap around his back, rubbing up and down in an embrace they’d never be able to share if Kent had chosen to run out of the brightly-lit front door of the bar, instead of the back. Jack and his boy, they were brave and stupid and reckless, but what they did brought the sport one step closer to shutting out people like Carl, for good. And maybe making it a bit easter for people like him and Swoops.

“Let’s go back to the bar,” Swoops whispered into his shirt. “I missed you in there.”

“Missed me, huh?” He always felt like he was doing the missing, and he found he quite liked how the reverse felt. “Well lead the way. Age before beauty, afterall.”

Neither of them moved, instead Swoops jaw dropped in outrage. “Hey! I’m the Rookie here.”

“Only because you took forever to join the league, Grandpa.”

Swoops hands fisted in his shirt again. “Oh, fuck off Parsons, I could--” But Kent never found out what he could do because Swoops was kissing him, hard and frantic like he was trying to prove a point, and maybe he was. It lit Kent up hot, and he used Swoops’ belt loops to bring him even closer.

When they finally pulled apart, Swoops lips were wet and his breath ragged. “Fuck it all, I’d totally kiss you center of the ice if-- No when, we win next time.”

Kent’s breath caught because they’d only been fooling around for a few months, but the look in Swoops eye told him that he was serious. “We’ll never win the Stanley Cup for dramatic outtings, if we do the same move as them,” Kent replied without much thought because most of his thoughts were focused on how much he wanted to kiss Swoops again. “We’ll have to think of something else. Practice.”

“Deal,” Swoops agreed, nodding. “Let's start right now.”

“MVP dedication, right there.” Kent chuckled under his breath, bringing his lips to Swoops. “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first real forray into Check Please! fic, so I hoped you enjoyed! 
> 
> Please feel free to come visit me on tumblr: [ashes0909](https://ashes0909.tumblr.com) <3


End file.
